Quintessence
by psychedelic aya
Summary: [SasuSaku. Drabbleish story flow.] Quintessence, the essence of being. Sasuke and Sakura: where it began, what comes between, and where it will end.
1. I

D o n ' t l e a v e m e . _Again._

Obsidian b l a c k – oh they used to be so graygrayblack –

"No one likes making you cry."

—she liked to believe it was for love. She'd manage.

(_You don't deserve it, Sasuke-kun)_  
(_I'll show you how strong I've become, Sasuke-kun_)  
(_I can't believe still love you, Sasuke-kun._)

"I love you with all my heart!"

_Stay, please stay._

"Thank you."

He wondered what it would've been like if—

"It suits you."

—he looked back and said goodbye.

_Don't cry._

T e a r s fell.

_Please don't cry._

He hated goodbyes.

---

**quintessence **- kwin-tes-uhns. _noun. _ the pure and concentrated essence of a substance; the most perfect embodiment of something.

---

I only know your name –  
where you live, and a phone number.  
With all the stories going around,  
I already know the things you hate.

But all of these have no meaning –  
if I can't really find you.  
My love is pointless,  
if you're not the reason for it.

I remember long ago,  
times of us together until midnight.  
It didn't matter what others said,  
just as long as we could be together.

But all of these have no meaning –  
if I can't really find you.  
My love is pointless,  
if you're not the reason for it.

I'm trying to reach you,  
I'm almost there.  
I'm trying to read between the lines—

But all of these have no meaning –  
if you're not the end it leads to.  
My love is completely pointless,  
if you're not the reason for it.

If you're not the reason for it.

_.Dahilan.  
Barbie Almabis_

(translated by psychedelic aya)

---

**Authoress' Notes: **—In which, yes, I am feeling rather dorky today. Note that the translation up there was based on the context and concept of this story, rather than on the exact song lines, but I tried to make the meaning similar. And oh, this is a "story", not a songfic, made of drabbles—yes, they ARE connected to one another, but I'd like you to think that they are not. Some drabbles won't exactly continue the other, but I assure you they are in chronological order. Of sorts. And the song is only up there because it's what inspired me, and I just thought you'd like to know. (It's also for reminding me why I began this in the first place.)

So enjoy, click to the next chapter. Smile, someone up there loves you.

**Disclaimer: **For all chapters, please—I own them and inspiration PWNS me with bricks. Therefore, I PWN YOU ALL FUFUFU. Or, just, not. Er. I don't own them. Get off my case, thankyouverymuch. (Donations would be welcome, though—)


	2. II

II. _All these things have no meaning;_

---

There was nothing special about that morning.

The air was cool and the sun was covered by the clouds, while the sky around it was painted orange and yellow and something magenta in between. The blowing wind smelled of fresh leaves and grass, and the flowers, diverse as they usually were in scent, took hold of what was the fragrance of cherry blossoms, and cherry blossoms alone.

It was spring.

"Spring's cherry blossom, huh?"

And so a young boy was speaking to a young girl. They were at the park (as most children were usually during a spring afternoon) and they had obviously just met (because the girl was blushing and the boy was really just staring as if he didn't really care). He was on a swing (and was, most obviously, _swinging_) and she was on the ground (and what else can you really do on the ground but _sit?_)

The girl nodded meekly. Her face was tear-stained and dirty and red and everything a young girl usually would not like to be—(especially when meeting with anyone on the playground; it makes a bad impression, you see. No one would want to be your friend, or so says the childish philosophy.)

The boy didn't seem bothered by how the girl looked, though, no matter how grimy or grubby she was. He was a tad bit cleaner than her, surely, and in the immature mind of boys his age that was enough reason to shun a filthy-looking girl on the playground floor, but despite her freckled skin and soiled clothes and crying eyes he talked to her.

In fact, he talked first. "What's your name?" he had asked then, and it was "Haruno Sakura" according to what he could make out of her sniffles. He swung and swung and ignored the fact that she was sitting on the ground—well the swing was free when he got there and she'd been there much earlier than he—so he thought she probably didn't want to, and he wasn't the type to force.

And that's when he said it, "Spring's cherry blossom, huh?" and he didn't hesitate to make pun to the meaning. As if by impulse, his graygray_black_ eyes took focus on the pink petals floating around them, thinking idly how they acted like what his mother called 'snow' on that early winter morn not so long ago, except that petals weren't cold, they were cool and warm and not on the same time. One petal—the one he was staring at, coincidentally—floated down and down and down, warm and cold and not at the same time as it was, until it was within his reach and the girl's reach—it then landed on her hair, and blended in there. You couldn't see the color difference.

(At that moment then, he seemed quite taken in by her pink hair.)

"It suits you," he said, suddenly deciding, as if it were a matter to be decided on by his young (too young) jurisdiction. His motions on the swing grew slower and slower each time he conversed with her then, "Because of your hair. But then maybe it doesn't suit you at all because you keep on crying over there."

The girl seemed taken aback. She looked up at the boy from her kneeling position on the ground (_such filthy knees now—mother will get mad!_) and whimpered. "B-but I can't help it. They were making fun of my forehead again—"

The boy found this quite odd. Without meaning to be rude but rather doing it on reflex: his eyes darted up to her (sort of large) forehead. He stared at it for a good while until the girl felt uncomfortable under his gaze (for his eyes were really so graygray_black_ and so capturing and so piercing and so deep).

He scoffed. "I see nothing wrong with it."

"R-really?"

"Yes."

(It was such a simple answer—but they didn't know how much it changed destiny forever.)

"So…" The girl was smiling now. (And the boy thought that it was such a pretty smile, after all, if you looked behind the tears and the dirt and the grime; but then, even with that, it was still—) "Can I swing now?"

The question rather startled him. There was only one swing and he wasn't so much of a gentleman yet to give her a turn. (He just turned seven and seven year olds do tend to be selfish—)

The boy shrugged.

(But Uchiha Sasuke was never an ordinary seven year old.)

"Okay."

Besides,

"You'll push me, right?"

"If you stop crying."

He thought Haruno Sakura had such a pretty smile.

---

**Authoress' Notes: **Edited this recently (like, hours ago), but wrote it ages ago (like, months ago). Things change, and things don't. Apparently, themes do. Er, anyway. You can click on the next part now, if I wasn't too lazy and was able to upload it. Or you may just review and say this sucks and never look at it again, forever and ever. Ho.

Smile, someone up there loves you.


	3. III

III. _If I don't find you._

---

"Sasuke-kun!"

And she was running through the market, going as fast as her feet could take her (with two bags of fruit and one of fish). "Sasuke-kun, wait for me!" And it wasn't easy for Sakura, mind, to run with heavy bags and several people pushing and touching shoulders and squeezing her. Especially when she was chasing someone—

"Sasuke-kun!"

—but she managed.

The boy looked back for a moment and stared at her for a good few seconds.

"What?"

(And the intensity of his gaze was so deep and Sakura vaguely remembered the first time they met, but she thought that his eyes were so much more piercing now than it was before.)

After all, she never felt her heart leaping at his gaze when she was seven. Now that she was twelve, it was a different story—in a lot of ways.

(_And so what if he was walking away now? So what if he didn't push her in the swings now?_)

She wasn't crying on her knees anymore, anyway; she didn't need anyone to help her climb on the seat of the swing just to be pushed. Swings were of the past—part of her well-kept, concealed childhood—and she locked the key to that consciousness years ago, when she decided she would stand up on her own like the rest of the girls, climb up on her own on the swing and get down at the same time, leaving it for a rocket of love, love and only love. Love that was true, love that was blissful. She needed—no, she _wanted_—that love; love not like the love you receive from you parents, but love like in those shoujo novels she and Ino-chan loved to read, love like the prince rescuing the princess from an evil witch atop a high tower.

Love like getting married and having happily ever afters, that kind of love. She jumped off her swing, cleaned her dirty knees, (_tried_ to stop crying as a whole), and grew her pale pink hair long and long and long, just for that love.

It wasn't always easy, she admitted, because swings moved back and forth and even if you jump off it'll keep on having a momentum until you force it to stop. Sakura wasn't on her knees anymore, but even when jumping off or standing tall she still cried, because she couldn't help it most of the time.

She cried for love and for the lack of it.

"Sasuke-kun, wait for me!"

The market place was busy, and his back was almost disappearing in the flurry of the crowd. He gave her an apathetic look, but it was a look all the same, and she was ecstatic to be acknowledged. She was content with that.

"Sasuke-kun!"

Still, she had her dreams, and it didn't matter if it wasn't always easy. She wanted love, after all, and for love, she would manage.

For Sasuke, Sakura would always manage.

"Sasuke-kun…"

It was as blatant as day, though, that Sasuke didn't have the same sentiments. For no one would he bother to manage.

That's why, after a few minutes, it was no surprise to Sakura when the noble red and white fan on his shirt suddenly blended in with the sea of people, disappearing in a subtle flash. She panicked a little then—though she expected this could happen she hoped her teammate wasn't too annoyed. Sasuke wasn't a very patient person and she wasn't a very fast runner, especially when the world and a village marketplace stood in the way. Within seconds of losing sight of the fan, she gave up trying to look for it, and let herself be lost in the crowd.

He acknowledged her anyway and it was enough, and she made herself think it was enough. But still.

_He didn't even bother to wait…_

He left her.

But it's okay—

"Well, I guess mom would want these fruits soon…"

—because she liked to think this was love.

She'd manage.

---

**Authoress' Notes:** I didn't like this one much, but I'm too lazy to rewrite and this fic has been in my hard drive for eons. It needs pimping, thus I am posting even though contentment is far far away, its not even flapping outside my window. Maybe its on the roof, sleeping. Oh, sleeping. I'd like that.

Thank you, by the way, if you've come to at least—er, chapter three, which is this. Hee. Smile, someone up there loves you.


	4. IV

IV. _Love is stupid—_

_---_

Their training just finished.

Naruto took nature's invitation and wasted no time in unceremoniously plopping himself under the shade of a cherry blossom tree to take a good nap. Sakura couldn't help but giggle at his childish antics; he ruffled his hair and scratched his behind and yawned a few good times, said a soft "Good night, Sakura-chan" (when it was just four in the afternoon) before closing his eyes and giving in to sleep.

Sakura sat next to him and relaxed with a small smile on her face—her energy and chakra resources were depleted in that mock fight with Kakashi-sensei—but really, she couldn't be more contented. Her muscles were killing her with a pain almost unbearable; but she ignored it, dealt with it.

She was with Naruto and she was with Sasuke and that made up for it.

(It always did.)

Blissful moments were deceptive—she thought that _this_ (Naruto's snoring and Sasuke's silence)—it was all she needed, even for the moment. Brilliant Naruto and valiant Sasuke—not quite a shoujo manga love triangle and not quite two princes trying to rescue a princess from an evil witch a top a high tower. This wasn't the love she imagined when she was her twelve-year-old self a few months ago, but then she knew that this was the love she was content with her twelve-year-old self now.

(But she still loved Sasuke, of course, though no longer in her dreamer's way; but in a way a miner loves a diamond after years of hardwork of mining it with only a single pick to hit the rocks.)

Yes, she was content without the shoujo-styled confessions or the fairytale-like rescues, but she was still a girl who jumped off a swing to rocket upward for love, after all, and when you shoot up to aim for something _that big_ its really hard to give up or forget, even harder than it is to wash dried grime of dirty knees. Sakura, though reborn at twelve, still loved the idea of love, the idea of Sasuke, but she liked to think it was in a more mature manner; because though she knew she loved Sasuke it didn't hinder her to love Naruto, it didn't hinder her to love her team.

("Things change," Kakashi commented once, while watching her train extra hard without being told to, his eye crinkling in amusement as she thought out loud about cutting her already short hair even shorter because it got in the way of her aim. "You've grown up quite a bit, Sakura.")

(She wished he wasn't lying, that his one eye wasn't letting him see this perspective in only half of a full view.)

Sakura sighed and tried to think: but ah, none of that matters now—not now, not ever.

_Please, not ever._

Because now, she was content.

And so it was only normal that—"I'm scared this won't last forever," she found herself mumbling—to no one in particular, really; but she knew, somehow, that Sasuke (he'd gone up to sit on a branch above her) was listening. (He pretended he wasn't but she knew he really was.) "What if something wrong happens?"

The leaves rustled.

"What if one of us dies?"

(And it's all silence and melancholy until someone decides to speak.)

"Don't think that way," Sasuke said, his voice like a mere whisper of the wind, coming from above the tree. Sakura tried looking for his figure but she only saw a whisk of leaves; there was not even a glance of his thin silhouette. Still, she knew he was there because he continued, "No one's going to die."

Sakura wanted to believe him. "How are you so sure?" She questioned, even though she really didn't want to. She believed in Sasuke and she believed in her team (because she loved them after all; _she loved them so very much_), but there was always a possibility. Always a possibility of anything of everything of nothing. "How are you so sure we'll always be together?"

He did his classic scoff. "I never said we'd always be together."

Sakura gasped, but tried to hide it; because jumping off your swing means you won't complain when your feet land on the hard, hard ground.

(_Break my heart, slowly; the fairytale is gone but please keep my reality in one place—)_

"Then—"

"—I just said no one's going to die."

Sakura was confused. Hurt and worried, that too, but more of confused. "But—"

"Quit it, Sakura. No one's going to die."

"How?" Is that even possible? "Why?"

Only the wind's whisper answered her, accompanied by the rustle of leaves (and not to mention Naruto's not-so-quiet sleep-mumbling). "Sasuke-kun?" Maybe he found her annoying (as usual) and just left her and her question hanging.

(It wouldn't be the first time.)

"Mou," She whispered to herself, suddenly feeling the urge to bring her knees to her chest and hug them. "He always does this. He always leaves me alone in the middle of nowhere and—"

Her words were cut off when Sasuke materialized in front of her, having jumped down from the tree with his usual par grace. His sandals made a soft sound against the fertile earth. He didn't face her when he spoke.

"No one's going to die, Sakura."

She remembered staring at his back (the familiar red and white fan was so bright against the navy blue) when she again asked, "How? Why?"

"Because," Sasuke started, and for a moment Sakura thought she saw a small smile in his profile—_like that time when we were younger?—_

"No one likes making you cry."

---

**Authoress' Notes: **Yes, I'm rather not content with this one, either, but it's three in the morning and I'd like to well, post. And the swing symbolism, recurrent as it may be now, will disappear from time to time. Again, this is a single fic but I'd like you to consider the drabbles individually, with no relation to each other (even though there is). I think they stand better alone, if not for the swing references. (Damn swing, its going back and forth in my head, saying, "Symbolize me, symbolize me!" and sorry swing, I'm not doing a very good job at it.)

Anyway, I hope you liked this so far, ho ho ho. Go ahead and review, yes? I'm winking at you and not being too subtle about it. Anyway, smile, cause someone up there loves you.


	5. V

V. _If you're not the reason for it._

---

The sight of Sasuke under the moonlight made Sakura shiver.

_Bag._

_No forehead protector._

_This gate's the exit._

She didn't need to be a genius (which she quite was) to put two and two together.

"I knew… that you'd be leaving," she started slowly, unsure of what to really say. _Don't leave me_, she'd like to utter, but she didn't want to sound too desperate. (At least not yet.) Sighing, she placed her hands on her chest to still her trembling heart, "This is the only way out of the village."

He merely stared at her, his obsidian eyes (no longer even the graygrayblack it used to be) flicking and meeting her gaze for only a mere moment. (Just a moment because holding it for more than that would cause damage fatal to both of them, and this was something Sasuke knew.)

"Go home." He said, coldly, because it was the only thing he could think of to say. He couldn't say goodbye (no matter how this was the perfect time and the only remaining chance for a decent conversation. _The only remaining time._) He hated goodbyes; so instead, "Go back to sleep."

Sasuke wanted to congratulate himself for such a good choice of words (amongst the so many—hundreds and thousands of everything in his head), but his sarcasm was being sarcastic to itself and wouldn't even let him. His whole body suddenly wanted to convulse (_Guilt. Is this guilt?_) and his heart was pounding and something (probably nothing or probably something or probably everything) was screaming in his head.

"Why won't you tell me anything?" Sakura suddenly said, and even though his back was turned to her he knew that she had begun to cry. "Why don't you let anyone in?"

"Why do I have to?"

_I don't have to._

(And then begins a long soliloquy—)

_I don't have to._

_Tell me I don't have to._

"You always act like you hate me, Sasuke-kun."

(So there is a long drama where harsh words are said are tears are shed—where a mind is shattered and a heart is broken; but it's okay, right? _Is it really okay?_

He was Sasuke and she was Sakura and it should be okay. He could step on her heart a million times—_over and over and over again—_and it should be—would be—_okay._)

She could manage, he thought. She could always manage.

This was her reality, after all, the reality she created in place of her shoujo manga and fairytales, the reality where she collected so eagerly the love that she wanted and kept it bound to her being. This was her reality, where he could spill her emotions on the floor and care nothing less about it, spit on it and defile it, and she would still forgive him.

…_Right?_

He refused to look at her.

"I love you," she said suddenly (or not so suddenly, for he was not surprised), and he expected as much. "I'd—I'd do anything for you!"

Sasuke wanted to cringe at her voice; if he hadn't been prepared, he wouldn't be able to handle it. (But he was prepared; _he was. He really was._ He ignored the back of his mind which screamed otherwise.)

There was desperation and there was hope. There was love and there was hate. There was selfishness and there was sacrifice—

"If you leave, I'll scream!"

_Don't leave._

(And thus begins dirge of broken faith—)

_Don't leave._

_Tell me you won't leave._

"Sakura."

He was behind her in an instant.

(And Sakura felt that she should say something—_anything_—but she couldn't, and she knew she couldn't. The the wind knocked her breath away and her lungs stopped functioning and her heart stopped beating and everything just felt like they fell to the pits of her stomach, churning and churning and churning without end, 'til she was hopeless and breathless and dizzy—)

She was shocked by how he said her name.

"Thank you."

(_The famed last words_. _They'll haunt you forever._)

"Sasuke-kun…"

(And just like that—everything he wanted to protect—herlaughter_hersmile_hertears—)

_Stay, stay, stay!_

(It was gone.)

He turned around and walked away. He pretended not to hear her soft breathing (_stay, stay, stay!_)—or the slow, slow dripping of her tears on the concrete floor. (_Stay, stay, stay!_)

_Live your life in an unsightly way…_

_I love you!_

_I am an avenger._

_Stay, stay stay! Stay, please stay._

Sasuke wondered what it would've been like if he had looked back and said goodbye.

---

**Authoress' Notes: **I tried to be dramatic. Oooh.

Smile, someone up there loves you.


	6. VI

VI. _And all these things have no meaning,_

---

There was a time when Sakura was left alone.

(The team is gone.)

She forced herself to believe that these things were only temporary.

She'd distract herself by training. Train until her bones were sore; bleed until the last drop of blood had gotten out of her body. She'd force the charka out of her until there was nothing else to force, push herself harder until there was nothing else to push.

Tsunade was worried about her. (Most people were.) She worked herself too hard.

(They blamed Sasuke; she loved him but he was a traitor. They blamed Kakashi; she loved him but he ignored her. They blamed Naruto; she loved him but he left her.)

(They blamed them all; she loved them but they didn't let her.)

People believe that maybe that's the reason why Sakura never really felt like smiling anymore these days—(because the team is gone and what else is left for her?)—but they don't know that her judgment is that certain people deserve smiles, and so she hasn't halted the action completely.

It was easy to make Sakura smile, they knew; a curve of the lips and a quick grin, no problem. But her smiles never reached her eyes.

(The team is gone, gone, gone.)

Still, people tried.

"Thank you, Lee-san, Neji-san," she said, quite chipper (though the Beautiful Green Beast of Konoha noticed how forced it was). The said two placed Sakura's newly-bought medicines down on the hospital's table counter while listening to her as she continued, "I hope this wasn't much trouble."

Neji shook his head just slightly while Lee looked stunned; the latter mocked a gasp and shook his head vigorously. "You, Sakura-san, be _trouble_? Never!" He exclaimed the words with a matching pose and a flashy smile—Gai-sensei's teachings, Sakura knew, and she couldn't help but be amused.

"Oh Lee-san," she murmured, through giggles, and patted him on the shoulder amiably. "Still, thank you, though. It would've been hard to carry without help."

He shook his head, "Ah, you're being humble! With your super strength, you would've been able to carry all those on your own, for sure! In fact, I should thank you for agreeing to let me—_us—_help you! It brought me—_us_—great joy! Right, Neji?"

Neji merely shrugged and looked away, but Sakura found it slightly comical on how he rolled his eyes when Lee wasn't looking.

Stifling a giggle, "You have weird logic, Lee-san," she then said; and as the Beautiful Green Beast laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, the medic couldn't help but let her gaze at him soften.

Neji didn't let this pass. Even without the all-seeing (he liked _not _to mention about the blind spot) Byakugan, he knew that Sakura's change of stare wasn't because of Lee.

"Sakura-san," he called out, and was surprised with himself; the action was impulsive, and his tone caused both his companions to turn and face him, each of their expressions masked with their own slight shock at the fact that he had spoken. Despite being the target their gazes, though, he didn't waver. "I heard Naruto was coming back soon."

It was said so utterly simply—so very Neji-like, as Tenten would say: his voice was monotone and there were no hidden implications in his tenor.

Still, Sakura couldn't help but grin.

"Yeah," she murmured, and Lee noticed how her face suddenly filled with color, "I know."

(And if Naruto came back then that means they could go searching for Sasuke again—_the team would be whole again_—)

Neji nodded in assent and said no more, as if he had said enough; when in fact, he had said nothing important at all. Nonetheless, Lee thought he felt quite accomplished.

(He made a mental note to treat Neji to ramen later.)

The Green Beast stared at Sakura's face. Her eyes were far away now, long gone from the environment of the hospital and far away from his and Neji's company.

Still, he never thought he'd seen her look quite as happy.

---

**Authoress' Notes: **Why do I have a million files rotting in my hard drive. Why.


End file.
